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I raise an eyebrow. “How are you so busy when you are literally suspended from collecting souls? You’re on desk duty. That’s hardly intense labor.”
He glares at me, and I smile back. Men usually hate it when you smile at their glares. He glances at my lips so quickly that I would’ve thought I imagined it. Maybe I did. Do I have something in my teeth?
An irritable breath escapes his lips, but he gives in. “Fine. I’ll listen to you talk about random nonsense. But I will not promise I will respond.”
My smile widens. “Works for me. Lawyers love to hear themselves talk, anyways.”
“So, you’ve said. Trust me. I have first-hand experience of that knowledge,” he replies. He grabs the stack of papers on his desk and pulls them closer. His face relaxes as he transfers information from the paperwork into the system. I watch as he slightly bites his lower lip while he types. I begin to imagine how soft his lips probably are. Whether he licks his lips after he eats you—
I shake my head, breaking me out of the daydream about Aiden Kim’s mouth.
Damn it, Joyce. You need to get laid ASAP.
I’m his lawyer. I shouldn’t be thinking of my client this way.
Remember Joyce. He sent you to Hell and forced you to be his lawyer.
Needing something to distract myself with, I clear my throat. “How did you die? And how old were you?”
He stops typing and turns to look at me, one of his eyebrows arched. “I got hit by a car. Died instantly. I was twenty-five.”
“Wow. Did it hurt?” I always wondered if it hurts when you die instantly. Well, I suppose I may have died instantly? I don’t remember feeling pain for long. I only had a slight ache for a little bit after Aiden brought me to Eden.
“No. It felt like getting hit by a cloud,” he answers, completely deadpan.
“Really?” I ask, not realizing how idiotic I sound.
“No, Ms. Parker. I just don’t remember if I felt pain or not. It happened so fast.”
“Oh, well. I’m sorry that happened to you. Especially at twenty-five. You were very young. How long ago was that?” I question.
“Five years ago.”
“Oh! We are the same age!” I tell him, although he already knew that.
“I stopped aging five years ago,” he informs me.
“But you’ve existed for thirty years,” I point out.
He rolls his eyes and mutters, “You always have to get the last word in, huh.”
“No, I don’t,” I reply, proving his point. He shakes his head and looks at his computer. I glance at my watch. Seeing it is time to head over to Reaper’s Court, I stand up and grab some of the files I may need for reference.
“It’s time to head over,” I remind Aiden. He nods, stands, then buttons his suit jacket. Whoever is responsible for making the reapers for the Collection department wear an all-black suit deserves an award because damn.
* * *
I am nervously organizing the papers on the table while thinking over Aiden’s case. If I lose, he will be sending me to Hell. My own afterlife depends on this case, and I barely know what I’m doing.
I glance around the courtroom, taking in my surroundings. The room has plenty of space for people to watch the trial. The set-up is very similar to a courtroom in the Living World except that there is no jury box and instead of a justice scale, there is a scythe carved on the Judge’s bench. All the tables and furniture are mahogany with gold accents. The table we are sitting at has a beautiful gold frame going around the rectangular table. It is a stunning courtroom. The nicest I’ve ever seen.
In the Living World—specifically, the United States—a courtroom consists of a judge, a bailiff, and a clerk. In Reaper’s Court, it seems as though the set up is similar.
I turn to my left to see opposing counsel, Chris Dalton. Yet again, another hot reaper. I chatted briefly with him when we walked in, but that has been the extent of our communications with each other so far. He is one of the five reapers who have joined Reaper’s Court as lawyers. He is the first Reaper’s Court attorney to get a case this serious. He and I will be setting a standard for how future cases are dealt with.
I begin tapping my feet when I run out of things to look at. Aiden gives the table two taps. I look up to see a look of exasperation on his face.
“What are you doing?” he asks.